 | Valentine Verses |  |
107
THE SPECTRE.
Ghosts, goblins, spectres, shades, & shapeless forms,
Terrific visitors of midnight hour,
Come hither! come, ye, harbingers of storms,
And show your faces, and reveal your pow'r.
Run Ladies! run, for hither comes I ween,
The horrid Spectre of St. Margaret's Green,
Terrific visitors of midnight hour,
Come hither! come, ye, harbingers of storms,
And show your faces, and reveal your pow'r.
Run Ladies! run, for hither comes I ween,
The horrid Spectre of St. Margaret's Green,
With arms extended see it moves along,
Its eye-ball flashing with the burst of fire,
It looks at once o'er all the busy throng,
Intent on none. Dear Ladies, don't respire,
For fear it hear ye; and conceive your sigh,
A certain proof of insincerity.
Its eye-ball flashing with the burst of fire,
It looks at once o'er all the busy throng,
Intent on none. Dear Ladies, don't respire,
For fear it hear ye; and conceive your sigh,
A certain proof of insincerity.
It moves with caution, slowly paces round,
With step so solemn, all are fill'd with fear;
It looks in vain, no lady can be found,
Of fickle heart of folly, seated near;
Now gliding on, it passes in the dark,
And leaves the Green, to wander in the Park.
With step so solemn, all are fill'd with fear;
It looks in vain, no lady can be found,
Of fickle heart of folly, seated near;
Now gliding on, it passes in the dark,
And leaves the Green, to wander in the Park.
108
All Ghosts and goblins, are but silly things,
Like this invention of the busy brain,—
But Lady, Spectre of Coquetry, springs
From conscious pride of beauty, giving pain;
May no such Spectre ever wait on thee
Disturb thy slumbers, or thy harmony.
Like this invention of the busy brain,—
But Lady, Spectre of Coquetry, springs
From conscious pride of beauty, giving pain;
May no such Spectre ever wait on thee
Disturb thy slumbers, or thy harmony.
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